Words of an Ancient Room
by Cadao
Summary: A short little story, told from the POV of a small Ancient Living Quarters.


Disclaimer: I own nothing, and I am making no money. I write fan fiction for fun and relaxation. 

(((((O)))))

Many people come and go over the years. Some like me, some think I am the best thing that ever happened, and some think I am a cheap, no good closet. Can I help if I am a small room?

Despite it all, I never hate my Resident. I love being the place someone goes to when they want sleep, or a hot meal. I know some of the other rooms in my section think other wise, but not me. To me, there is no such thing as a bad Resident. Granted, sometimes I wish I could suffocate the ones that put things into my walls, or use me as a punching bag, but its all the same when you get down to it.

But when the Wraith come, my life changes. Most of our Alterans leave us, going through the Stargate and simply leaving us to rot. One of them stays behind, and she becomes known as the Caretaker. Dear, dear Caretaker. She shut us down, and she makes sure we will not drain our power.

She was and is a wonderful woman. She sleeps in a Sleeping Chamber. Ever so often, Caretaker awakes to rotate our power modules. It is because of her we survive for 10, 000 years.

And then . . . whispers from the halls, and rumors from the lights. A group of people have arrived through the Stargate!

Hope surges through our walls. Are the Tales from the Gate Room simply wishes of old systems, pleading with who ever might hear that someone will live within us again? Or are the Tales real? Are there actual people up there? Turning on ancient lights, putting in commands to the ancient computers?

And then confirmation. We are rising! We are leaving the ocean floor! Only if someone had come through the Stargate would we rise! Our city is no longer a place for ghosts.

It is a few days before the halls report a small group of people branching out from the Control Room, a group with the Alteran Gene. This is wonderful news, but what is the chance of that group coming to our section? True, we are living quarters, but we are not as sleek, nor as pampered as some of the other homes. What could we offer the New Alterans when you compare us to the Higher Class Housing?

Most of us simply gave in to the fact we are never going to be lived in again. Some of us, myself included, hope that the New Alterans do not care about such materialistic things. The group that had come through did not have a class network like the Alterans. They would not force any to live here. Or at least, that was part of the Tale.

The room next to me, the one on my left, squeals in delight. When she is calm enough, she tells me the New Alterans are coming down our hall. I listen, and yes! I can hear them. Four or five of them, most male, but one female. We rooms hold our breaths, all hoping one thing: we will no longer be abandoned or forgotten.

My door opens. Someone pokes his or her head in. A man! He glances around me, steps into my boarders, and throws his bag over to my bed. Words came out of his mouth before he shuts my door. A few more moments of scrutiny, his eyes ranking up, down, left, right. If I could, I would be trembling. Would he like me? Would he stay here with me?

He must be satisfied, because he smiles and goes to my bed, flopping onto it. Without even a glance at anything else, he goes to sleep.

Pride swells within me. Out of all the homes with separate kitchens, entertainment rooms, exercise rooms and a whole manner of other things, this man has chosen me. A bedroom/kitchen and a bathroom. Deciding to be spontaneous, I open my kitchen. He might not know it is there, after all. And if he does not know it is there, how can he pull it out of my north wall?

I also do a maintenance check on my bathroom. Flush my toilet, make sure the tap flows water not muddy goop, make sure the sink does not clot up, make sure the shower runs smoothly. Oh, I shouldn't of done that, now that I think of it. I'm old, what if something broke? Nothing did, thank goodness. Everything is in working order. When he wakes up, the bathroom and the kitchen will be ready. I just hope he has his own food . . .

In the mean time, I'll watch him sleep. No words can express how happy I am, now that I will no longer be empty; no longer alone.


End file.
